A figure flickered, and a person appeared beside Zhao Wuji. The moment this newcomer arrived, the tension on Zhao Wuji's face eased noticeably. "Boss, this senior—"
The newcomer raised a hand toward Zhao Wuji, signaling him to stay silent. Facing the invisible pressure, he had no choice but to release his own Martial Soul.
A pair of enormous wings unfurled from his back, and his entire body was covered in a layer of plumage. His orange-yellow eyes held vertical pupils, and seven Soul Rings of the same color as Zhao Wuji's appeared around his body, undulating up and down.
"I greet Lord Haotian." Not only did this man show no intention of fighting, but he even bowed respectfully toward the black-clad figure.
Zhao Wuji drew in a sharp breath. After hearing his companion's words, he finally realized who stood before him. His heart clenched — heavens, when had he managed to offend this terrifying individual? The person before him was the Titled Douluo widely regarded as the greatest powerhouse in the entire world of Soul Masters. His Martial Soul followed the same developmental path as Zhao Wuji's own, but compared to his strength, Zhao Wuji's was nothing more than a firefly's glow against the moon.
The black-clad figure said coldly, "No need for formalities. I'm here to cause trouble. Cat Eagle Martial Soul, seventy-eighth rank — worthy of being Flandre, once the main combatant of the Golden Iron Triangle. This Shrek Academy is yours, isn't it?"
Flandre nodded. "It is, my Lord. I wonder what Zhao Wuji did to offend you, Lord Haotian. Might you give me a little face and—"
The black-clad figure cut him off with an indifferent tone. "Save your breath. Stand aside, or I'll deal with you too. Zhao Wuji, I'll give you a chance. I won't use my Martial Soul. If you can last the time it takes to burn one stick of incense in my hands, I'll leave without another word. Otherwise, you'll have to do one thing for me."
Zhao Wuji forced a bitter smile. "Lord Haotian, I truly don't understand what I did to offend you. Could you at least explain?" His meaning was clear — even if he was going to die, let him die knowing why.
But Flandre, standing right beside Zhao Wuji, showed absolutely no loyalty and immediately sidestepped, making it obvious he had no intention of getting involved further.
The black-clad figure gave a cold snort. "Do I really need to explain? You beat the young one, so the elder naturally steps forward to seek justice. That's simply how it works. Let's begin."
The massive weapon in the black-clad figure's hand vanished along with his nine Soul Rings, but in the very next instant, he had already appeared directly in front of Zhao Wuji.
Bang bang, boom boom, ahhh—
The sounds of collision, the roar of surging energy, grunts, and screams echoed one after another through the forest.
Nearby, Flandre, with his wings still spread, couldn't help but cover his eyes and turn his head away, unable to watch any longer.
There was no need to light a single stick of incense — the entire exchange was over in the span of ten breaths.
The black-clad figure stood with his hands clasped behind his back, as though nothing had happened at all. His black robes didn't even have a single wrinkle. Meanwhile, poor Zhao Wuji lay flat on the ground. His head had swollen to nearly twice its size, and both eyes had turned a deep, bruised black. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he lay there, gasping for air.
"Zhao Wuji, do you understand now?" the black-clad figure said mildly.
Only then did Flandre dare to approach and help Zhao Wuji to his feet. Surprisingly, Zhao Wuji's face was filled with gratitude. "Thank you for your guidance, Lord Haotian."
The black-clad figure nodded to both of them. His lips moved soundlessly as he whispered a few words.
Zhao Wuji and Flandre nodded simultaneously, their expressions turning serious.
"Consider what just happened as compensation for what you went through. I'll be leaving the rest in your hands." The black-clad figure's voice was no longer cold, though it remained calm. Behind his dark mask, a faint trace of warmth flickered through his deep eyes. With those final words spoken, his figure flickered and he vanished without a trace.
Zhao Wuji stood rooted to the spot, and he and Flandre remained motionless for a long while. Zhao Wuji's body could only stay upright with Flandre's support.
"Flandre, you really have no sense of loyalty. The man tells you to stand aside and you just stand aside? If His Lordship hadn't been so benevolent, my corpse would've gone cold by now." Zhao Wuji grumbled.
By now, both men had retracted their Martial Souls. Standing beside Zhao Wuji was a tall, elderly man who spoke with a slight lisp. If Tang San and Xiao Wu had been there, they would have recognized him immediately — he was the cunning shopkeeper from whom they had bought the Hair Crystal for two hundred Gold Soul Coins just the other day.
Flandre replied with annoyance, "What do you know? If he truly meant harm, would adding me to the mix have changed anything? Haven't you heard of his reputation? He's the man who dared strike even the Pope himself — what qualms would he have? He already told you that if you won, he'd have you do one thing for him, which means he obviously had no real intention of injuring you. Otherwise, how could you carry out his task? Even that you couldn't figure out. It's just… I never expected him to actually be…"
Zhao Wuji gave a bitter laugh. "How could I not see what you were thinking? You didn't want to provoke him. But can you at least let me complain a little, after taking such a beating? Still, his strength is absolutely terrifying. Without even using Martial Soul Possession, I was still hopelessly outmatched. I'd estimate his Soul Power has surpassed the ninety-fifth rank — he's incredibly close to the hundredth rank, the pinnacle of Douluo. There probably aren't more than a handful of people on the entire continent who could stand against him."
Flandre said, "Which Titled Douluo isn't someone you'd want to cross? You were actually lucky this time. Come on, let's head back. You look terrible today, but receiving guidance from someone of the same Martial Soul type — the benefit to you will be immense."
The night had grown late. None of the students inside Shrek Academy had any idea that so much had unfolded beneath the calm of this evening. As for Zhao Wuji's face, swollen up like a pig's head — this time, it wouldn't be recovering anytime soon.
(End of Chapter)